Anyway, I don’t know what you gay people see in Rupert Everett. The boy is kind of cute in a goofy sort of way, but what’s up with that flat butt? Who want’s to grab a handful of pelvic bone? So I gave Rupert the big brush off and went to see the Wild Wild West instead. Big Willie, do it to me, says this black lady cause I sure enough can’t do it to myself--at least not all the time.

        I’ve had my eye on you Big Willie. Believe me, when your parents didn’t understand, I did. And if I wasn’t watching the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air then I sure as hell was taping that fucker. Plus, when you jumped to the big screen, guess who stood, first in line, with her jumbo popcorn and pepsi in hand? I’m your number one fan. I saw Independence Day and Men in Black ten times, and you know your ass should’ve been in Godzilla. So, now that we got all that established, can you tell me, Big Willie, what the fuck is up? You gonna take a girl’s seven-fifty for that Wild Wild Bullshit?

        In the movie, Will stars as Jim West, a womanizing, wise cracking, hip shooting, U.S. marshal. Kevin Kline plays Artemus Gordon, another marshal, who specializes in gadgets and disguises. While Big Willie comes in guns blazing like an old west Rambo, Gordon takes the Martin Luther King approach. Being the best at what they do, the President sends them both to stop the evil Dr. Loveless (Kenneth Branagh) from pimping out America to the leaders of France, Spain, and England.

        Sounds slamming, right? Wrong. I sat in the theatre, dazed and confused, trying to figure out who slipped something in my Pepsi, when I realized, it wasn’t my drink but the scrub movie that was making me ill. I used to think turning TV shows to movies was a tight idea but somebody fucked up big time here—they had the nerve to give my girl Selma Hayek a thankless role as a helpless showgirl who begs Jim and Artemus to help look for her kidnapped father. I’m over that damsel in distress business; I would’ve set it off with some Calamity Jane/Annie Oakley stunts, and got that shit done myself.

        If treating Selma like an extra wasn’t bad enough, you should’ve seen what they did to Will. Somebody give me the low down on how Big Willie could go from Men in Black to Man in Dress? I almost choked on my popcorn when he sashayed on screen tricked out like a reject from a Foxy Brown or Lil’ Kim video. Tischa don’t go there, Big Willie. Jada, girl, you better watch your man and make sure he keeps his pants on, cause that shit ain’t cute or funny. What’s worse is that when I told Charlotte that he didn’t even shave, girlfriend slipped into a coma and kept mumbling Wild Wild Mess over and over.

        Willie, next time you put on a dress, do that shit right and don’t embarrass the drag queens. But hey, I’ll cut you some slack cause I know the director got desperate and rewrote the script to read: WILL SHAKES HIS ASS DRESSED AS HAREM WENCH.
 

        Wild Wild West has bad taste to spare. In one scene a mob gets ready to hang Will, who shifts into comedian mode to back them off. If that’s all it took I’m sure the south would’ve had plantations full of Eddie Murphies and Chris Rocks. Some things you just don’t make fun of, like the holocaust, rape, lynching, and Omar Epps (I’ll take two scoops of some Omar Epps).  Think of all the people who died. I doubt their asses are looking through the pearly gates, laughing it up. I don’t know if you’re having a personal crisis, Big Willie, but don’t make me call Jesse Jackson on you. He’ll round up the NAACP and we’ll march down the streets to your front porch. We all know Jesse’s always down for a cause, whether it’s protesting Hollywood bias or speed bumps, so swinging by your house won’t be a problem. I’m trying not to be righteous. God knows I’m no saint, but at least I know where to draw the line.

        Don’t go see this movie. I’m telling you straight up that you will walk out looking like a victim of a Mac Truck hit & run. I knew something was up when that bitch on Entertainment Tonight reported that reshoots had to be done cause of bad test audience results. But did I listen? No, my dumb ass had to ride the Big Willie and get screwed.
 
 

	The best thing about Wild Wild Mess was that it was down the hall from Summer of Sam. After the crap I went through I needed a Spike Lee Joint. Set in New York City during the summer of 1977, Summer of Sam deals with serial killer David Berkowitz and the seeds of horror he sows in an Italian American neighborhood.

 John Leguizamo plays Vinny, the only straight hairdresser in New York City. Now, Vinny is a low down dirty dog to the tenth degree, cause he spends his free time cheatin’ on his wife, Dionna, played by Mira Sorvino. Look, ya’ll got to go see this movie just to see this fool run his game on my girl Mira like he was the bastard son of Don Juan, Casanova, and Billy Dee Williams. I looked around and the men in the audience were taking notes. In one scene, Vinny falls to his knees, wraps his arms around Dionna’s legs and begs her not to go. I swear, that so many sweet nothings flew off his lips that I stood up in the theater shouting, “I’ll take you back, Vinny, ya’ dirty bastard!”

        Vinny tries to get his act together after his near run in with the Son of Sam; it doesn’t work. The only way that boy could keep his dick under control would be for Miss Dionna to put a leash on it. Vinny’s problem, like so many men, is that he thinks his wife should be virginal and pure, but then he goes out with every two dollar ho. No wonder my girls can’t get no satisfaction from you two-minute brothers. Hell, if they wanted to be virgins they would’ve married God, not your sorry asses. So, men do yourselves a favor; throw your women on their backs and do those girls the right way, dammit.

         If you think no one could have worse problems than Miss Dionna you’d be wrong. My girl, Ruby (Jennifer Esposito) has much more drama on her plate. Not only is she the neighborhood whore, but her boyfriend Ritchie (Adrien Brody) is a spiky-haired, dog collar wearing, punk rocker who uses a fake British accent and shakes his ass for men in a seedy strip joint. Now he may be the perfect stocking stuffer for Ruby and Charlotte, but like I said before, Tischa don’t go there.

             As our two couple's twisted tales of love and heartache unravel, the Son of Sam (Michael Badalucco) continues his murderous spree through the streets of New York. His scenes are filmed with some strange film stock that makes all the colors super saturated and intense. Spike seldom gives us a full-face shot, preferring to shot Badalucco at angles and from the back. A demonic dog that constantly barks and a trash filled apartment with dirty dishes and buzzing flies ups the creep factor even more. Back in the neighborhood paranoia reaches a whole new level when the neighborhood gang suspects Ritchie of being the killer.

         But hey, I’m not gonna ruin the movie and tell you everything that happens. Get your asses in gear and go see Summer of Sam. I heard that it wasn’t doing great box office so get out there and support Spike. I loved this movie, but I gotta say that after the credits rolled I ran to the nearest Baptist church to pray, cause you know it’s a sign of Armageddon when there are no black people in a Spike Lee movie. Sure Spike stars as some TV reporter and his sister Joop, Jisi, or whatever her name is, has a cameo, but that’s about it. What’s up with that, Spike?

         But I ain’t mad. In fact, I got a few tips to help earn the dollars. First, you need to work on this merchandising thing. Look at George Lucas making those Jar Jar dolls for the kids. You gotta get the Son of Sam dolls on the shelves. And you can’t forget about Malibu Ruby and her boyfriend Ritchie, complete with IUD and removable cock ring. Trust me, Spike, they’ll move faster than Tickle Me Elmo and Beany Babies combined.
 
Copyright 1999